Royal Mistake: The Complete Series Read online

  He touches the top of my arm, brushing the pads of his fingers softly over my skin. “It’s nothing to concern yourself with right now.”

  My mouth falls open for a moment and I glance at his hand, trying to ignore the electrical shock his touch sends through my skin. I stare at what he’s doing for a minute before I look back into his eyes.

  His jaw drops for a moment before he snaps it closed at the same time as he pulls his hand away from my arm. He slides away from me as much as he can without falling off the bed.

  Andrew lifts a brow. “I’m only here… I mean here—in this bed—because you asked me to be. You practically begged me to hold you last night when you came out of your procedure. The nurse said I was welcome…” His voice trails off and he draws in a long breath, almost stiffening. “I only did this for your benefit. For your comfort.”

  I nod and lift my head again, shifting myself to the opposite edge of the bed. He slides his arm away from me and edges off the bed and into the chair next to it in a single motion.

  I sit myself up, and Andrew grabs a remote control thing from the table next to us, pushing a button to raise the head of my bed.

  It isn’t until I lean back that I feel the throbbing in my foot.

  I must wince or something—Andrew’s eyebrows draw together with concern again. “Are you in pain? I’ll ring the nurse so she can bring you more medication. She said—”

  “I’m fine.” There’s no way I’m going to allow myself to be medicated so heavily again that I’m begging Prince Andrew for anything—especially for him to hold me. My God, I can’t believe I would ever do anything like that. Especially to him.

  “The physician who worked on your foot said you should be able to walk as soon as you’re ready. He also said there would be a large scar.” He frowns. “Of course, I believe we should consult a plastic surgeon afterward. I believe they might be able to—”

  I shake my head, interrupting. “It’s the bottom of my foot, Andrew. Who the hell is ever going to see the bottom of my foot? It isn’t like it matters.” I close my eyes for a moment before turning back to look at him. “Did you talk to your press secretary? You should at least make a statement—tell the world you’re alive.”

  He looks at me blankly. “I am alive.”

  I blink at him a few times. “Clearly.”

  “And I would never take my own life.”

  “I never thought you would—”

  “Apparently there are some who do…” His voice trails off and he looks at something over my shoulder. “I’ve devoted my entire life to my country, and yet the first reaction…the first thing people thought was that I had attempted to take my own life.”

  Something about his tone makes something twist in my chest. “Oh, Andrew.” I shift, trying to cover the pain I’m sure he can hear in my voice. “Have you spoken with your parents—?”

  “I couldn’t remember the telephone numbers. I…” His voice trails off and he looks at the floor for a moment before returning his gaze to mine. “It’s a terrible thing about technology, wouldn’t you agree? That the information about our contacts is lost when our telephone is lost?”

  I give him a grim nod, lifting a brow. “Terrible. That is why they have the backup systems, though, I suppose.”

  He nods, rubbing at his unshaved chin, ignoring my comment. “The only number I could remember was Leopold’s.” He’s quiet for a moment before he turns his gaze to mine. “I dare say he sounded disappointed to hear from me.”

  “I seriously doubt that, Andrew.” I search his eyes for a moment—he seems to really believe what he’s said about his brother.

  He rubs at the stubble on his jaw again. “You don’t understand. You don’t know the history of what’s transpired between us. If you did…” He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. “I have a new plan.”

  I nod. “A new plan? For…what?”

  “For our story.” His voice is almost somber. “Particularly now.”

  My head is starting to throb—I’m not exactly in reporter-mode, but he doesn’t seem to care.

  I let out a small sigh. “And why particularly now? None of this is making sense, Andrew—”

  He nods—his eyes are almost wild. “It will. It will make perfect sense when you understand.”

  I rub at my temple and close my eyes for a second. “Understand what? Andrew—”

  “Understand that I was not attempting suicide by plane crash. That I would never do that—not to myself and not to my country.” He stands, shoving the chair against the wall to give him room to begin pacing the length of the bed. “I can see it in my head now. How the story will play out. It will be perfect for us both, Victoria. You can present everything—beginning with Leopold’s betrayal of me and finishing with my engagement.”

  My eyes widen for a second as his words sink in—did he just say engagement?

  I open my mouth to answer, but I don’t get a sound out before he continues.

  “We’ll detail the past four years.” He stops and looks at me for a moment before he turns his gaze back to the floor. He puts his hands behind his back and starts pacing again. “Then, you’ll write a series of carefully crafted stories, slowly weaving in my side of the current crisis. And by the end, the world will see how I could never betray my country by attempting suicide…” He almost spits out the word. “And with any luck, the world will instead be on the edge of its seat, watching my wedding to my perfect bride and they’ll have forgotten that my brother even exists.”

  He finally stops walking and turns to me with a small smile. “What do you think? Can you handle this?”

  “I… I…” My breath seems to be stuck in my throat. I force a smile, trying to slow down the racing of my heart—he can’t really be saying what I think he’s saying. “Andrew—”

  “I know this is quite sudden, Victoria, but you’ve proved to me that you’re up to the challenge. That you’re the perfect person. That you’re trustworthy and intelligent and capable. You’re perfect.”

  My cheeks burn under the compliment. And I can’t help but grin, even if this is…sudden. “I’m flattered, Andrew, really, but I think—”

  He nods, grinning. He runs another hand through his hair, making it look almost as wild as his eyes. “I’m sure my mother will want some say in this plan. She’s quite adept at things such as this, and now that Leopold has finally—perhaps permanently—attached himself to someone, it shouldn’t be quite so difficult.” He nods to himself. “Yes, this is the perfect plan, wouldn’t you agree?”

  I press my lips together, trying to hide the strange combination of giddiness and surprise and terror—and I watch him as he starts to pace again.

  I try to pull myself together, shaking my head a few times. Even if he is asking me to marry him, it’s out of the question. He’s so damned devoted to his country that I can’t imagine him ever being that devoted to me.

  But he held me. Again. I asked him to hold me in my delirium, and he did. Maybe he can be devoted to a woman. But even if he can, we barely know each other. I’d at least like to get to know him—to know if there’s something more than attraction between us before I agree to marry the crown prince of Montovia. Before I agree to be the future queen.

  Holy shit.

  “Andrew, why don’t you sit down? Slow down for a second.”

  He stops pacing and turns to stare at me for a moment. He pushes the chair next to my bed again before he drops back into it.

  I let out a slow breath. “What you’re offering is very…flattering. Really. But I think we need to slow down—”

  He shakes his head. “We can’t. What you said before—before the crash—was right. We need to be in front of the story. I should have been in front of it, but I had hoped it would go away. But as it stands now, this is the only way.”

  I reach out and take his hand in mine. “I think—”

  “They’re accusing me of attempting suicide with my airplane, Victoria. They’re saying
I’m incapable of ruling Montovia.” He blinks a few times, and I could swear he’s blinking back tears. “So you understand why this is the only way.”

  I tilt my head, meeting his gaze. “Andrew, once they find the plane—once they see the damage to the wing, everyone will understand why we crashed.”

  He shakes his head and frowns. “No, you haven’t heard…” He clears his throat and turns his gaze to our clasped hands. “They extracted the airplane from the lake yesterday. There was no damage. There was no bird strike—there was no reason for the crash at all.” He pauses for a long moment before lifting his eyes back to mine. “I hope you know I would never…”

  I squeeze his hand. “I know. Andrew…” I let out another long breath. “I know that if you had wanted to do what they’re saying, the plane would have been in a million pieces. We would have been in a million pieces. And I’m perfectly willing to go out there with you and talk to the press and tell them that. I’ll tell them how you saved my life—that there’s no way you could have been trying to kill yourself or anyone else.”

  He shakes his head and places his other hand on top of my mine. “They don’t care. They won’t listen. You know what they’re like. You know better than anyone.”

  I nod. “I do. But I also know that you’re incapable of that—”

  “You don’t.” He shakes his head. “You barely know me. They’ll realize that and the story will fall apart. Which is why this is the only way.”

  “Andrew…” I fake a small smile. “I’m not sure that marriage is the only way.”

  He nods. “Leopold…” His voice is almost choked. “Leopold was ready to take my place. You don’t understand. He’s changed… He’s—”

  “That doesn’t mean he’s trying to take your place in line, Andrew. Maybe he’s just coming to realize that there’s more at stake in his life than his libido. It just took him a little longer than it took you—”

  “He can never rule. Don’t you understand that? Leopold can never rule.” He smiles and looks deeply into my eyes. “Which is why I’ve decided that you are going to help me find the perfect wife.”

  I have to have misheard him. Maybe there’s still a lot of pain medication in my system or something, and it’s affecting my hearing. Maybe I’m still asleep. Maybe—

  I don’t get to finish my thought before he nods, smiling. “You and my mother. You’ve seen those reality television shows they have here in America, yes? The ones where the man auditions women to be his wife?” He nods again and I can see his eyes have gone back to their wild state. “That’s what we’re going to do. But not on television—I would never do anything so crass. But I’ll audition a few suitable women in a similar fashion, only through your tabloid. You’ll write about our dates and we’ll see how the Montovian people respond to each candidate. And the woman who rates highest will become my wife. And I’ll marry her before Leopold has a chance—”

  “You’re…auditioning…” My mouth falls open and my heart twists in my chest as I realize I really have misinterpreted everything. I can’t believe I have to blink back the hot tears that sting at my eyes as I realize what he’s saying. I can’t believe I’m…disappointed. Maybe even hurt. I had been so sure—so absolutely certain—that he was proposing to me in his own strange way.

  He nods. “Do you think five candidates is too many? I’m sure my mother will want some say in the number as well.”

  I shake my head and slowly pull my hand away from his. I don’t want him to see whatever it is I’m feeling—I can’t quite tell what the twisting in my stomach and chest is, only that it hurts. And that I don’t want him to see any of it.

  I’m quiet for a moment, carefully considering my words. Trying to figure out a way to get out of whatever it is he thinks I’m going to help him to do. “Television is probably a better—”

  “No. No television. It will happen in Montovia, where the stories can be controlled. And it will happen in print, as we can control the words that way as well—”

  “You can’t control everything, Andrew. And you actually think that a woman is going to accept this—?”

  He almost laughs. “To be the future queen of Montovia? Are you joking? I tried with once before with someone—to arrange a mutually beneficial match. Do you know of Princess Maria?” He gives a forced laugh. “Of course you do. Maria had her chance—and she won’t be among the candidates who are chosen this time, I will guarantee you that, Victoria. Not after her filthy betrayal…”

  There’s something off—something wrong about this whole thing, and for a moment, I wonder if I’m asleep, dreaming this entire interaction. But I’m ninety-nine percent sure I’m wide awake, at least by the way the throbbing in my head is keeping time with the throbbing in my foot. But Andrew’s demeanor—his behavior—is so different than it’s been over the past few days. How he wouldn’t say a damned thing to me—he wouldn’t even talk about the most minor of things until we were in Montovia. His distrust of the press—his distrust of me in particular… something about his sudden openness isn’t adding up.

  But he doesn’t give me a moment to question him before he’s speaking again. “She came to visit us, you know.”

  My brow furrows. “Who? Princess Maria?”

  He nods. Standing again, he begins pacing beside my bed. “Four years ago. She and her parents had come to Montovia on an official state visit. But we all knew it was to see if she and I were an adequate match. Our mothers had arranged the entire thing.”

  I know I need to stop him. Something is wrong, and I don’t want him thinking I took advantage of him when he realizes it, too. “Andrew—”

  But he doesn’t stop. “She seemed pleasant enough. She’s beautiful, everyone knows that, though she’s not the most intelligent woman I’ve ever spoken with.”

  My voice is firmer this time. “Andrew—”

  But he keeps pacing, ignoring me. “I asked her if she would like to visit the grand library with me after lunch. She declined. I asked her to tour the palace grounds with me and she refused. I asked her if she would like to visit the touring butterfly exhibit that afternoon. She told me she hated insects.” He turns to me with a cynical laugh. “Can you imagine what she might have done if she’d found a rodent nest in her bed?”

  My skin crawls at the memory, but I shake my head. “Andrew, you should really—”

  “And I couldn’t think of what to do to impress her. I couldn’t think of a single other idea. So I did the only thing I could think of—I went to Leopold’s quarters to ask him how I might impress her. Because he is the master at impressing women, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Oh, Andrew…” My heart twists in my chest again—I can already see where this story is going. And I know he’s going to hate himself—if not me—when he realizes what he’s saying.

  “No. No, it was not ‘Oh, Andrew.’ No, it was most definitely ‘Oh, Leo.’ But how could I blame him? Maria and I had no commitment. And even though Leopold and I didn’t speak for almost two years after that, I could hardly blame him. Maria and I had no betrothal, no arrangement. It was only that she and I…” He stops and turns to me slowly. His eyes are wide with what looks like panic. “Off the record. This is all off the record, Victoria.”

  I close my eyes for a moment before I look back up at him. My voice is shaking, but I try to be firm with him anyway. “Sit. Down.”

  He drops into the chair next to me.

  “When was the last time you had anything to drink, Andrew? Have you even eaten?”

  “You cannot use a word of what I’ve just told you. Not a single word. Do you understand me?” He almost growls the words. “I’ll deny every word if you—”

  “Stop it.” I glare at him. “We just spent two nights together—”

  “Three.”

  My jaw clenches for a second. “Fine, three. We were in a plane crash. We… We almost died. Both of us. More than once. And you really still can’t trust me?”

  “I—”

 
“Look. You’re still dehydrated. You’re hungry. You’re obviously not thinking clearly if you’re telling me about this stuff.” I glare at him for a second. “And if you’re seriously thinking about auditioning women to be your wife—”

  “Noble women. There’s a difference—”

  I almost growl my interruption. “That is not what I signed on for. Hell, I still don’t even know what I signed on for, Your Highness. But I woke up and you were holding me and you were touching me—”

  “Because you begged me—”

  “Be that as it may, you were in my bed. And now you’re asking me to help you find a wife? I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I don’t think I’m your girl.”

  “Clearly not—not in that way. I only meant that you were perfect to write these stories. How many hundred articles have you written about my brother in your career?”

  I frown. “I have no idea. I—”

  “Almost six hundred. Over the course of five years. You realize that is nearly three articles per week, do you not, Ms. Simpson?” His eyes have gone wild again, but he waits expectantly for my answer.

  But I only shake my head. I’m not about to start doing brothers’ therapy between Andrew and Leo.

  Instead I pull the remote control thing off the table and push the button with the red cross on it. A second later a voice comes through the speaker. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes,” I say. “My travel companion needs some medical attention.”

  Andrew

  I have to make her see that this is the only way.

  “This story would make your career,” I tell her. “Can you imagine? The whole world will be talking about it, and you’ll be the only one with the truth.”

  “This isn’t the career I want,” Victoria says. “And I have no interest in being part of that circus.”

  “If you would take a moment to consider—”

  The door swings open behind me, and a nurse comes barging in. She looks from Victoria to me.